


Kingslayer's Ghost

by Sookiestark



Series: Twelve Days of Westerosi Christmas [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Ghosts, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-02-28 07:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13266477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: When Jaime Lannister dies in the Second Battle for the Dawn, Brienne of Tarth takes his iron hand as a keepsake. Several years later, a new maester is sent to Tarth and starts to believe that there are strange occurances and perhaps Evenfall Hall is haunted by Jaime Lannister.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is just the first chapter and the story doesn't really start until the second chapter. Please have patience.. I will try to post the second chapter in a few days.

Brienne of Tarth laid the Kingslayer to rest on a pyre that she had built with her once squire-recently knighted, Ser Podrick Payne. They built it on the edge or the wolfswood in the space of the cleared land between Winterfell. If there hadn’t been a giant battle, she would have never been able to cross the land with all the snow that had fallen in the last few days. But the feet of thousands, dead and living, had packed the several feet of snow, as if it was hardened mud. 

Even though the worst of the storm had subsided, it continued to snow lightly, covering the bodies and the blood and the armor and horses. Turning the bloody remnants of the battle into a winter wonderland, she was always amazed how beautiful a landscape could look after a snowstorm. Growing up in Tarth, she had not often seen snow and when she did, it was never in such volume.

There were still groups of soldiers wandering through the bodies to see if there were any survivors, to burn any remaining parts of wights still moving, to collect the weapons and armor that might still be useful. They had built a huge pit in the snow with wood and they were throwing the dead and fallen men in the pit, where Drogon, the Queen’s last dragon would breathe fire on them. In that instant, they would all burn to ash and stain the snow gray for miles. 

The commanders of army, that were still alive, were trying to identify the dead, to send word to the families and tell them that their loss was not in vain, that their son or husband had given his life so that the future of mankind would continue. It was a noble idea, but in the last week or two, many men had arrived and there were many bodies who could not be identified. It was a sad thought to think of all the villages and keeps around Westeros who would never know where their young men went and how they fell. 

Brienne had fought with Jaime in the battle. They had rode in the vanguard with Aegon VII and the Dothraki horde and others who had craved certain death and glory untold. She had wanted neither. She had just wanted to be near him, and if he was fighting in the vanguard, so was she. When he had fallen, she had wanted to go to him but the battle was thick and the dead kept coming. She had yelled to Pod to stay with him, stay near him and do not let him rise up. Pod had picked up Widow’s Wail and kept watch that his body was not defiled and that he did not rise with weirdly bright blue eyes. 

As soon as the battle was won, she had come back to him. Kingslayer was still alive, barely breathing. It was said that he whispered something to Brienne and she had sent Pod away to find wood. There was no Maester that could help him. When Pod had returned, Brienne had tended to the his body, removing his armor and his sword and his iron hand.

As the King had commanded, all the dead must be burned. It was a necessity or she would have his body prepared by the Silent Sisters. Brienne would have preferred to send his remains to Casterly Rock to be buried with his people, or King Landing to be buried with his children. But all the dead must be burned and so to the fire he went.

Brienne of Tarth did not want to see his body on the common pyres where Drogon would breathe his fire and all would burn. He deserved his own pyre. After all, he was a hero, a man of legends, a knight like knights of old. Though if he was here, he would tell her to burn him and throw his ashes on wherever Cersei’s body was buried because came in the world with her and he would like to leave it with her. 

She would give his armor to his brother to bring back and display in the Hall of Heroes at Casterly Rock. Widow’s Wail, his sword, would be given to Lady Sansa. She would keep his iron hand. If it had been the gold one, Brienne would have given it to the King and Queen, but Jaime had left the gold one with Cersei in King’s Landing when he had left her. He had come with the iron one in its stead. 

Brienne did not cry. Before they lit the pyre, the Hand of the Queen, Tyrion Lannister came across the field to watch his brother with some of the men who had fought with him. Jon Snow, the King came to watch with his head bowed. Lord Royce and the Knights of the Vale. Lady Sansa Stark and finally, Daenerys Targaryen came to watch the Kingslayer leave the earth ash on the wind. Brienne noticed the Hand of the King wiped his eyes several times as the fire consumed the body

Brienne watched the fire until it went out. She was the last person to leave. Pod would have stayed with her, but Tyrion had wanted to speak with him. He had looked at her and she had waved him away, so she could be alone with her thoughts and her grief. Finally, when the fire was embers, she headed back into Winterfell with the rest of the living. She went to drink and celebrate the victory of the dead and to tell Lady Sansa, she would be returning to Tarth now that the war was over. In her bag was the iron hand of Jaime Lannister.


	2. Chapter 2

Harald the Barber, or Harald the Acolyte, or among the smallfolk, Bloody Harald, was not thrilled to be sailing to Tarth. Though Tarth was said to be a beautiful place with seas the color of sapphires, rolling hills and quaint villages, he was not going there to enjoy the scenery. He was going there to serve as a healer and in the role of a Maester for Lady Brienne of Tarth, and her husband, Ser Hyle Hunt of Tarth. Harald had been serving under Lord Tarly as a physician and a barber for the past few years. He had liked Horn Hill and liked Lord Samwell Tarly and his family very much and had been disappointed when Lord Samwell had asked him to go to service in Tarth. 

However, he did it out of respect to Lord Tarly and to show his loyalty to House Tarly. There were reasons why he was specifically chosen to go in the service of Lady Brienne. One was because Lord Tarly had known Lady Brienne years before in the War of the Dawn. He had also know Ser Hyle Hunt, from when Samwell was a child, and Ser Hyle had served Old Lord Tarly. Lord Samwell had said, “Go for a year or two and see if you can help the Lady of Tarth’s husband. If you didn't like it, there will always be a place for you at Horn Hill.You are one of the best healers in the Seven Kingdoms. If you do a good job, perhaps, King Aegon will ask for you to be an instructor at the Queen’s College. Teach physiology and healing arts...” 

 

Several years ago, King Aegon VI started a school to compete with the Citadel, both in learning and power. King Aegon VI had felt that all the knowledge in Westeros should not be held by one group and so he had founded a school, called the Queen's College in memory of his beautiful dead Queen Daenerys in King’s Landing. He had invited wise and learned men from both Westeros and Esso to come and teach. Some said he had done it to break the hold that the Citadel had on the lords of Westeros.

Harald liked to imagine him teaching the brightest minds of Westeros. It was a lovely fantasy for a boy who was a bastard from the Riverlands, with no name or power. He imagined people asking for his advice and sage counsel, powerful and rich nobles. If only, his step father was still alive and could see that he had made a name for himself. Tarth was the first step in his plans. 

The second reason Harald had been chose was because he was a well- known healer, specifically in matters of pain and head injuries. It was said that Ser Hyle had suffered a grievous head injury at the Second War for the Dawn and still had terrible headaches and pain from the injury. Even though Harald was only an Acolyte, he had made over six links in his chain when he had been in Oldtown, two in healing. He had left the Citadel during the War for the Dawn, not to fight like so many young men had, but to heal. As he had made his journey to the North, he became well-known, not just because he was good at healing, but he did not care who he healed, whether they were noble or smallfolk, poor or rich, which was unusual for someone who had so many links in a chain. 

The third reason was that Harald had been trained in Oldtown, but was not a Maester. After the War, Lady Brienne had returned to Tarth with a new husband, Ser Hyle. It was said that Ser Hyle had become tyrannical because of his constant pain, a man given to dark moods and rage. Shortly, after Brienne and Hyle had returned, Selwyn had died in his bed peacefully. They say he had not minded that his daughter had come home already pregnant and probably married several months gone. Ser Hyle had not taken his wife’s name, but he also let her rule Tarth as the liege lady, and hold all the power in ruling her lands and people. Most men in that position would have taken the name Tarth and ruled as a Lord, but not Hyle, he seemed content just as her husband, almost a consort. 

Hyle Hunt’s lack of desire for power and constant headaches were not the only strange things about him. The other thing that was strange about Ser Hyle was that he hated Maesters. As soon as Lady Brienne took control of Evenfall Hall, they dismissed three in quick succession. The last one was found, drowned off the coast of Tarth and his body had washed up eaten by fishes. After that, Lady Tarth had requested that a Maester not come to replace the last. For almost a decade, Evenfall Hall had no Maester. 

Because of the unusual behavior, stories had sprouted up around the ruling family of Tarth. It was said that Lady Brienne kept the iron hand of Jaime Lannister. Some said she had loved the Kingslayer and been his whore. Some said their eldest boy, Gwayne, was actually Jaime Lannister’s son. Another story was that she had loved the Kingslayer and that Ser Hyle had slain him in battle, turning against the Lord Commander while they fought the Others. Stabbing him in the back, Ser Hyle had killed him jealous over the way Lady Brienne had loved him. Some said that the Kingslayer’s ghost haunted Tarth and could be seen sometimes, practicing in the yard of Evenfall Hall, white cloak gleaming on a moonless night. It was said that this ghost was still angry at the treachery of Ser Hyle Hunt and that it was the ghost of Jaime Lannister that kept his murderer in constant pain.

 

However, outside of old wives’ tales, recently Tarth had been experiencing pirates from the Stepstones. Some said it was a test to see if Aegon VII would do anything. After all, he had sat on the throne for almost fourteen years and they might be trying to see if he still had mettle. The Lady of Tarth had thought to find some kind of Maester in case there was trouble and she needed wise counsel or healing arts.For ten years, there had been no Maester in Tarth, but Lady Brienne had started to need more trained counsel. He was certain that the Citadel was furious that they were not using a Maester. Harald was not yet a Maester, but it was said that Ser Hyle Hunt did not care for the Citadel at all, and Harald wondered if he would be sent packing as soon as he arrived.

Harald knew he was not stupid, as wise as any maester, but he knew the reason he had been offered the position, the fact he was close enough to be a Maester, but not under the long arm of the Citadel. 

Lord Tarly had gone with Harald to King’s Landing to make the journey to Tarth. Making the journey with the most prestigious and renowned travellers, Lord Samwell had told him that he would be fine and to not be worried. However, regardless of what Lord Samwell had said, when he had seen such illustrious heroes from the War, like Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, and Lord Davos Seaworth, Master of Ships board the ship, he felt awkward and uncomfortable about his humble background and his modest means. When the heir to Evenfall Hall, Gwayne Tarth, arrived with the Prince of Dragonstone, Aemon Targaryen, Harald almost slunk off the ship, entirely uncomfortable, but Lord Davos had grabbed his sleeve, “Wait, we won’t bite. I promise. We put on trousers one leg at a time.”

His kind eyes seemed to put Harald at ease and he stood on the dock and watched young Gwayne Tarth embrace Prince Aemon and board the ship. 

By ship, it only took two days to Tarth. He felt awkward and uncomfortable around such great men and was unsure what they thought of him. Lord Davos seemed kind and wise, but Lord Tyrion seemed to have a biting wit and was quick to tease and jape. Harald did not know if he meant it in good nature or mean spirited. At night, the four of them would meet for dinner. It was the only time that Harald left his rooms.

Gwayne, the oldest and heir to Tarth, had been fostered in King’s Landing and was Prince Aemon’s best friend. Gwayne is known to be a loyal and true friend to Aemon the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne. They are rarely apart and it is said that Gwayne might live up to his namesake Gwayne Corbray, who might be the greatest knight of all time. Gwayne was thirteen, very handsome, tall, and well built. His hair is golden and his eyes are the brightest blue and he is tall and well built. In the past year, Gwayne had been betrothed to Edric Baratheon daughter, Lena. 

On the first night at dinner Gwayne had heard of his skill with healing and had asked him about it. “Did you see any of the battles during the War for the Dawn?”

“No, my Lord, but I saw what they could do to the bodies.”  
“My father fought in the Second Battle for the Dawn alongside my mother. You should hear him tell it,”

Lord Tyrion who seemed to take an interest in Gwayne laughed, “Ahh, yes, the exploits of Ser Hyle Hunt.”

Lord Davos laughed, then looking at the boy, quieted his laugh.

Gwayne normally laughed at all Lord Tyrion's jokes but he seemed silently angry when Lord Lannister japed on his father.

Tyrion touched the boy’s hand, “Gwayne, I am jesting, teasing. It is what courtiers do, You must get used to it if you want to play the game.”

“Lord Tyrion perhaps you could tell a story of Jaime Lannister.” Davos spoke, changing the subject.

Tyrion looked at Ser Davos strangely and smiled. “Ahh, yes, How about I tell a story about the Kingslayer and the Battle of the Dawn?

Gwayne seemed entranced by the story and forgotten were all the slights against his father. After all, Tyrion had been brother to one of the greatest knights of all time, Jaime Lannister. 

 

When the boat finally docked at Evenfall hall, they docked in the little village beneath the Keep. The distance to the castle was not far. At the dock of Evenfall Hall, there were wagons and horses and a wheelhouse to unload trunks and supplies. One of the servants said that Ser Hyle had sent the wheelhouse for Lord Tyrion in case his small legs would tire. Tyrion had smiled and said laughing, “I will walk, but please tell Ser Hyle he can kindly fuck himself.”

Harald had wondered what kind of man would tease and jape the Hand of the King and one of the richest and most powerful men in Westeros. However, Lord Lannister seemed unfazed by it, almost enjoying it, as he hummed a tune. When they reached the gate, Lady Brienne and her other two sons and daughter were there to meet their brother, Lord Tyrion, and Lord Davos. Harald stood at the end of the receiving line and nodded to each one, shaking everyone’s hand. The second boy was named Arthur, the third was named Ryam, and her daughter was named Catelyn. When he got to Catelyn, she was a pretty girl of seven, all blonde curls and blue eyes, he kissed her hand with a flourish and a smile. The little girl laughed delighted. . 

Lady Brienne looked at Harald critically, with a scowl on her face. “You must be the man to be counsel, the man who will be my master, but who is not one. Come with me to my solar.” 

He followed her into Evenfall Hall. The Keep was a thick sturdy structure, well maintained and clean. It was decorated with Myrish rugs and tapestries, ancient and worn, but comforting. 

In her solar, she offered him wine and cheese, some warm bread with butter. Lady Brienne was a giant of a woman, maybe the tallest woman he had ever seen. She was not attractive and the years as a warrior had added to the scars and detracted from any beauty she might have had when she was a young maiden. He had been told to expect as much by Lord Tarly, but he had also been told that she was a generous and kind lady, loyal and true.

 

On the Lady’s desk, where she worked and read, was a old and dark iron hand. Harald found it a little unsettling, just laying there like a dead animal or a curse. It was a dark heavy thing and it filled Harald with a sense of dread

 

The Lady of Tarth was serious and spoke. “Where are you from, Harald?”

“The Riverlands, my lady, but I have been in Lord Tarly’s service for ten years now.” 

“Did you fight in the War?” 

“I wanted to, but the Maesters forbid it. They finally let us leave to help and I did. But I am not a fighter, I am a healer. When I finally left Oldtown, the war was over and there were only wounded. I helped how I could.”

“Do not apologize for upholding you vows and listening to those above you. That is honorable. I respect honor and loyalty, above all. Lord Tarly, says that you are a practiced healer.”

Harald could not stop looking at Jaime Lannister’s hand. It was a haunted thing. He would know he was from the Riverlands the most haunted place in Westeros.

 

“Yes, my lady, I would say I am good at it. I have a talent. After the war, I made my way helping as I could, both the small folk and the nobles.” 

 

“Do you know how to set a bone? You will need to know that. Between Ryam and Arthur, someone is always hurt..”

“I do, my Lady. Did you name all your sons after knight of renown?”

“My husband is bit of a romantic. He wanted all the children to have names of great knights, Gwayne Corbray, Arthur Dayne, Ryam Redwyne. He is also a lover of jokes. My husband had wanted to name Gwayne, Garth… Garth from Tarth. So I chose Gwayne.”

Beneath her stone face was a hint of a smile. It seemed the giant Lady Brienne genuinely loved her husband. She continued, “Have you taught lessons?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Catie needs to know history, number, writing and reading, as does Ryam. Arthur needs practice on Houses, sigils, things like that. He will tell you that he does not, that he is going to join the Kingsguard. All my husband does is tell them stories of children’s tales.”

“If your son, Arthur, tries to tell me that, I will tell him how even more important it is for him to learn it. After all, he will be beside the King and the King might need his counsel.”

She smiled slightly, looking at the papers again. In the corner of the room, a set of blue armor stood, shined and ready. Harald though that must be the armor the Kingslayer made for her.

Lady Brienne Tarth looked at him critically, “My husband, Ser Hyle Hunt, was seriously injured during the War. He has an an injury to his head. It causes him headaches and pain. Are you familiar with this type of injury?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

The Lady of Tarth looked at him with her blue eyes, pretty eyes, kind eyes. “Because of this, he is often in his personal chambers in the west wing of the castle. We try to keep his room dark and cool without many perfumes or incense. It helps him. He does not like strangers or small talk. Rarely does he drink. It contributes to his headaches and he you will probably never see him in the Great Hall. You will help with tonics and poultices to keep him free from pain. He hates Maesters, but you are not a Maester, are you? ” 

“No, my lady. I am not a Maester.”

She stood and Harald followed her. She walked him to the Great Hall, where she introduced him to the steward to show him the library, the ravenry, his rooms and help him get settled. 

She looked him over one more time, “We are glad you are here, Harald. It will be nice to have your help. Mostly, you are here to help me. I never wanted to rule Tarth. Yet here I am.”

“I will aid you in all I can.”

She smiled and it felt like the room brightened. Lady Brienne left without further delay.


	3. Chapter 3

The steward of Evenfall Hall showed Harald the library, the rookery, and his own set of rooms. Intimidated and immensely proud, Harald had a whole set of rooms for him and his use; a small personal library for reading and research, an apothecary for brewing antidotes and experiments, a small pantry, well stocked with jars neatly labeled, a strange room full of specimens and artifacts from other Maesters of the past, a set of sleeping rooms, and a solar. The strange collection room was filled with stuffed birds and jars with foul things in them. The small library was reasonably well stocked with books or remedies and healing, as well as history and languages. In his bedroom, there was a huge tapestry of five hunters with dogs trying to trap a phoenix and a griffin. It looked ancient, perhaps Myrish or Lysene and dark wooden furniture. 

It was a comfortable set of rooms for a well-respected man. Harald felt a swell of pride thinking that he had a whole set of rooms just for him. What would Merry have thought if she saw such a collection of room all for him? She would have been thrilled. For a moment, he imagined her here in his arms. He sometimes missed her so much that he thought his heart would break, but as the years passed, the pain lessened. 

Harald spent the rest of the first day taking stock of his library and the pantry. The room with the jars of specimens and stuffed animals, both fascinated and terrified him. As a boy, he had had a terrific imagination and was given to superstition and folktales. 

Once years ago, he had been Harald Rivers and he had been raised in a small timber keep on the edge of the Whent lands by his mother and his stepfather, a poor cousin to the Whents. His mother had been a ladies maid in House Vypren but she had fallen in love with a knight who went to fight in the Greyjoy rebellion and never came back, leaving her ruined with a dead man’s baby in her belly. His stepfather was a mean landed knight and given to rages, but his mother had been a kind woman that had loved Harald. She had told him the story of High Heart and the Oldstones. She filled his head with all the ghost tales of the Riverlands. She taught him the healing arts and how to soothe his stepfather with teas and herbs. 

The first night he had wandered into the kitchens, hoping to collect some bread and cheese and return to his rooms. While there, a woman from the kitchen told him he would be expected to come to the feast. Tarth men had been a begun to gather to fight the pirates. Also many had come to see the illustrious heroes of the Second War for the Dawn. 

The feast was larger than he had expected. There were even several musicians and a juggler. The feast was well attended and seemed to have everyone of note, able to come to Tarth. Though the feast was not as grand as Horn Hill, it was still good and seemly, simpler fare; sweet potatoes with honey, fish baked in big clay pots with butter and herbs, roasted carrots and leeks with herbs, venison, chicken pies. 

Lady Brienne seemed warm, even if she did not always smile. He could tell she was glad to see the visitors from King’s Landing and was just as glad to see all her guests from her island. He stood by her side and she made sure she welcomed each one of her guests, saying their names and houses so that Harald would remember, What she did not know was that Harald had been reading and studying all he could about Tarth. He had talked with Lord Samwell on what he knew, as well as read all he could get his hands on. After all, his future and honor were tied to how well he did this job. He wanted to impress her and not fail. 

 

As the plates were cleared and the food finished, Lady Brienne stood, raising her voice so that it would echo across the hall, “Lords, Knights, Men of Tarth, I know that I am but a woman but I am still the Lady of Tarth. I will lead you to fight the pirates in Morne and we will push them back to the sea. We will show them the might of the men of the Stormlands, and Aegon VII.”

At this, the men in the crowd cheered. Lady Brienne’ oldest son, Gwayne seemed to want to jump out of his seat with excitement but his mother gave him a warning look and she continued. “We will feast for the next four nights and on the sixth day I will ride out on land and sea and drive the pirates from Morne! We will ride out together for Tarth!” 

After the speech, the dancing started with musicians. Gwayne and his mother seemed to be in a heated discussion. There was a pretty woman who was a nurse to Catie. She was not a Septa which was unusual but not unheard of. She smiled at him and he was afraid she might ask him to dance so he left the feast to retire to count his stores and read his books.

As Harald was walking back to his room, he saw Lord Tyrion coming from a hallway, “Hello, Harald. Perhaps you would like to accompany me?”

“Where do you go, my lord?”

“Why to see Ser Hyle? Come with me. Hyle Hunt and I are good friends from the War. We were surrounded by the White Walkers at Winterfell and I learned a great deal of him. He is not a fan of Maesters but he needs you more than he knows. I do not like to see such a dear friend in pain.”

When Harald got to the rooms of Ser Hyle, he saw a heavy tall shadow on a couch in front of the fire. Harald peered into the dark room but could not see much. He saw that Ser Hyle seemed to keep his head shaved or had gone bald. Because of this, all could see the terrible scar on the back of his head. Even in the darkened room, Harald could tell that it had been a terrible injury. 

Lord Tyrion had been making jokes when he entered the room after only one knock. Lord Tyrion hadn’t even waited for confirmation to open the door. However, even with such impolite behavior, Ser Hyle smiled when he saw Lord Tyrion. The smile lasted only briefly because when he saw Harald, Ser Hyle yelled at Lord Lannister, “Tell the Maester to get out. I don’t know what is worse, a Lannister or a Maester? Perhaps, you should both leave.” 

“Let me work on him,” Tyrion whispered with a smile and entered the room, leaving Harald in the hallway.

That night in the dead of night when most of the castle was sleeping, Harald found himself unable to sleep and restless. Harald decided to go for a walk, thinking the exercise and fresh air would help ease him into sleep. His room overlooks the yard. In the mists, he sees a silver figure in golden armor and a white cloak, silently swinging the sword in the yard. For a second, Harald feels like he is stuck in a dream as he watches the Kingslayer’s ghost practice in the mist and under the moon. Suddenly, as if the ghost knows he is being watched, Kingslayer’s ghost looks up and sees him. 

Terrified, Harald rushes in his room and locks the door. He did not sleep for the rest of the night, certain he would be murdered by a vengeful spirit. 

Harald spent the next day with Lady Brienne who was serious, but soft-spoken. He liked her for her formality and her rules and he liked that she looked to him for knowledge and did not doubt him. Harald began to think he might like it here on Tarth. He had wanted to tell her about the ghost he was but thought better of it. 

He also liked the Lady’s children and found he liked teaching. Ryam seemed to have some difficulty reading but Harald was certain he could think of a strategy to help the boy. He was finishing up with the children when Gwayne found him. Gwayne approached him, “Good Day, Harald.”  
“Good Day.”

“Harald, you are my mother's council...”

“Yes, my lord, I try.” 

“My mother won't let me go with her to fight the pirates. She says it is dangerous I have won tournaments against members of the Kingsguard. My father would normally sway her to my opinion, but he says he won’t. He says if my mother is against it, then he will side with her. I need your help to convince her.” 

“My lord, a battle is not a tourney and your mother is correct to be afraid for your safety.” 

Immediately, Gwayne’s face dropped with disappointment and he walked away irritated at what Harald had said. Harald imagined Lady Brienne had probably said something similar. 

 

On the second night, the feast was even bigger. Harald had wanted to stay in his rooms and miss the entire thing, but Lady Brienne had said if she must go, so must he. He stayed and listened and watched. Ser Hyle did not attend. When the plates were being collected, Catie came to him and asked him to dance. He danced one dance with her and then he made his departure known to Brienne and fled the hall before Catie’s nurse, Bella came to him for a dance.

 

Harald did not go out to the yard that night to look and see if the Kingslayers ghost was out there. It scared him too much. 

 

On the morning of the third day, Hyle Hunt emerged from his rooms, left with his sons and Lord Lannister in the morning to go hunting. As Harald stood with Lady Brienne and Lord Davos in the yard, they watched them ride into the woods. Harald spoke to Lady Brienne and Lord Davos, “I did not think Lord Tyrion hunted.”

Lord Davos spoke, “He does not, but this is more about wine than the hunt.”

Lord Davos and Lady Brienne busied themselves with preparing ships and supplies. For most of the day, Harald was helping track inventory and keep stock of supplies and weapons to go with them to drive the pirates from Tarth. 

By lunch, they returned with a stag. Harald was struck by how handsome Lady Brienne’s sons were and how at ease they were in the saddle. It was like looking at the sons of kings of old. Ser Hyle was red-faced from the sun and the wine, but he seemed a warm fellow with none of his usual temper. Harald thought to himself that Ser Hyle seemed very handsome and that Lady Brienne was lucky to be the heir of Tarth. Ser Hyle teased his eldest son that he should keep the points of the stag and give them to his betrothed as a bridal present.

At the third night of feasting, Ser Hyle finally came to the feast at Evenfall Hall. He was dressed all in blue and black, simple but he looked very kingly in them. He was red-faced from drinking all day. Ser Hyle seemed slightly bloated as older men sometimes do. Most likely, it was his lack of exercise and age. Ser Hyle avoided looking at Harald, even though he sat on the other side of Lady Brienne. Harald noticed Ser Hyle wore gloves throughout dinner and favored his left hand. 

As the night progressed, Ser Hyle continued drinking. Finally, he stood, bellowing and lifting his glass “I will lead the men fighting the pirates!! My wife, the Lady of Tarth, has requested that I lead the attack. I do this for you! For my Lady! For the King! We will return to them with our victory!!”

When Ser Hyle raised his glass, the hall cheered. Harald looked to Lady Brienne, as this was the first he had heard of the change of plans. One glance at Brienne and he knew that Ser Hyle had spoken without consulting her. Lady Brienne seemed troubled at both his drinking and the bluster and Harald wondered if he would bring Gwayne with him. 

Late that night, he is woken to check in on Ser Hyle. The servant who woke him told him that Ser Hyle was having one of his headaches, his fits, and to hurry.

When he arrived, he found the man, with all the lights extinguished and the windows opened. “Ser Hyle had a towel over his face and was moaning. 

“Ser, I must light a candle or I will not be able to work.”

“Fine.. Just make the pain stop.”

“Perhaps, some milk of poppy if the pain is severe.”

“No milk of poppy You can give me milk of poppy when I am dying. You must heal me I must ride out with the men in two days. I must. Heal me, Bloody Harald.”

“Ser, I will need to do an examination.”

“Come back tomorrow and do it. Get me something for the pain tonight. I promise I will let you prod and poke me and check my fluids. Just make the pain stop.” 

Harald made him some tea, the kind he had made for his stepfather a hundred times. He had tweaked the recipe adding what he knew would be helpful. He instructed Ser Hyle to drink the tea as much as he could stand. Alternating between water and tea, after an hour, the pain had lessened enough for Ser Hyle to sleep. Harald walked back to his rooms, never looking in the yard, afraid to see the ghost of Jaime Lannister.

 

The next day he goes to examine Ser Hyle Hunt before he starts the lessons with the children.   
Ser Hyle’s rooms were dark and still. They smelled cold and wet like the sea because they had opened all night. He found the Lady’s husband in front of a fire watching the flames, wrapped in a blanket. 

Harald spoke, “Good morning, Ser. How do you feel?”

Ser Hunt spoke, “ Surprisingly, the pain has lessened to a hammer on an anvil. I can move around and speak, so the pain is better. Perhaps, we should keep you around Harry. I hear you are a great healer. Perhaps, you can help me regrow my hand. I lost it years ago, north of here.” 

The man laughed bitterly and Harald wondered what ghosts kept Ser Hyle up at night. 

“My Lord, I have come to do an examination and I will brew some more tea.” 

Upon completion of his examination, Harald was filled with more questions. His urine and blood seemed fine. His humors did not seem to be out to be out of alignment. The scar on his head was deep but after inspection, the skull did not seem damaged in any way that would lead to damage. Obviously, Harald couldn’t see whatever was underneath and the damage there. But his green eyes seemed responsive to light. Hyle Hunt was heavier than he should be but he could tell he had once been athletic and he was tall, but not as tall as the Lady of Tarth. 

Besides the large scar on Ser Hyle’s head and several over his body, a pretty severe one on his side and leg. However, the most notable injury that Ser Hyle had sustained was he had lost his right hand. Since he wore gloves whenever he had seen him, Harald had not noticed that his right hand was made entirely of wood.

Harald asked him, “When did you lose it?”

“In the Second Battle for the Dawn.” 

Harald was going to ask more questions but there was a knock at the door. Harald got up to answer the door, but it opened before he got to it. Catelyn peeked around the door. Her large blue eyes blinked at him, “Hello Ser... Maester... I would like to see my father.”

“I think he is in some pain, my lady. Perhaps you could come back later.”

“Harry, what are you doing? Let my daughter in. Catie always gets to come. No matter how bad. She knows to be quiet. She helps soothes the pain. Catie, push past him. He is not a Maester or a septon. He just prefers black robes. Black Harry.”

Harald stepped out of the way. The little girl smiled sweetly as if to apologize for her father’s temper. He smiled back at him and she curtsied before she scampered to sit beside Ser Hyle. She was blonde-haired and blue-eyed and well made. Catie went lightly on her tiptoes to her father and threw himself into her lap. Her father hugged and tickled her. Harald wasn’t used to such affection between father and child. His step-father had never been playful or affectionate. 

“Daddy, I love you.”

“Catie, I love you.”

Harald left the room, certain his patient was feeling much better. Several hours later, Lady Brienne called him to her chamber. “I am pleased by your skill and it seems Lord Tarly was not embellishing when he said you were a great healer. I am grateful. I was thinking that it might be better for you to go with my husband to Morne, in case he has need of your skill. “

On the night before they depart to Morne, Harald cannot sleep. He is worried about what tomorrow holds. He cannot sleep because of his thoughts. Even though he is terrified to see the ghost again, he leaves his chamber. 

Timidly, he looks in the yard. There is no one there, ghost or otherwise. Harald goes to the ramparts to watch the dawn over the Sea. In the dawn, he sees the Kingslayer in the mist overlooking the ramparts. Instead of fleeing, he draws closer. Harald thinks he must be emboldened by the threat of being killed by murderous pirates. As he draws closer, the morning light grows stronger and the mist clears, and he realizes it is Ser Hyle Hunt all along. 

Ser Hyle hears him and turns to see him. “Good morning Harry. Are you ready for the fighting?”

“No, ser. I do not think I am.”

“No one ever is.”


	4. Chapter 4

On the docks, Harald had watched as Ser Hyle had hugged each of his sons while he held Catie. Catie had a doll in one hand and the other hand was wrapped around her father’s neck. He spoke gently to Gwayne that he could come next time but for now to stay and take care of his mother. He rubbed Ryam's head tousling his hair. When he came to his wife, they were formal and stiff. Ser Hyle kissed Lady Brienne’s cheek, the one that did not have a scar. She had spoken to him softly, “Return to me, Ser Hyle.” 

 

However, Harald had seen them in the hallway behind the kitchen when they were alone and not in front of all their bannermen. He had been coming from the pantry and when he had seen the intimacy, he had drawn in the shadows to give them privacy. Harald had seen the way his lady had wrapped her arms around him and rested her forehead on Ser Hyle’s. 

“I love you, Ser. Take care and do nothing foolish,” she said

“I will be back.” He had spoken to her. Harald thought to move away and stop watching. but he could not.

“Be careful. You are not as young as you think” Lady Brienne was teasing him. She took his hand in hers. Harald thought he could see color in her cheeks like she was a maiden and not a wife and mother. 

He smiled and kissed his wife “I am young enough, still. When I come back, we should try to have another baby.”

“Another?”

“I like you fat and happy and I like how well made our children are.”

He kissed her softly and Harald thought she might be crying. Embarrassed by their intimacy, Harald retreated in the pantry to make loud noises so that they would know he was there. After a few minutes, when he emerged, they were gone.

 

Harald was woken from his remembering on the dock by Catelyn of Tarth. The pretty little girl was looking up at Harald. She had a flower made of paper in her tiny hand. He knew his own daughter would have been older if she had lived, but wondered if her memory was what drew him to Catie. “Ser... Maester, will you protect my father? He needs help sometimes, especially with his headaches. I had this dream that he is bleeding and you will help him. Promise me, you will.”

Harald knelt down and took the paper flower. He tied it to his robe. Pleased at her gift, she smiled and straightened it. Harald spoke to her, “I will do my best. I might not be able to protect him for I do not know how to fight. Also, do not worry about dreams. They do not mean anything. I am sure your father will be fine. Of course, I will help him with all that I can. “

She hugged him “Thank you, Harald.”

Harald climbed aboard the ship with the rest of the men and the ships that left for Morne. He watched Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion’s ship head North to safety as they went South to the danger and pirates.  
They reach Morne with no trouble. Morne was mostly a ruin but large enough to provide space and shelter, a base for operations. 

The closest keep was a modest stone keep, Whitestone held by Lord Whitestone. Lord Whitestone was a young boy of eight. His father was killed by pirates during the raids. One of his older sisters had been taken and his mother was in a sort of catatonic state. Lord Whitestone was glad to have a healer, so Harald spent most of his time between Morne and Whitestone, tending to the sick.

On the night before Ser Hyle sailed to the where they believed the pirate's lair was with the ships and the men, he came to Harald’s quarters at Whitestone. Harald gave him some herbs that he could brew, if necessary, but Hyle had not had a single headache since the trip. Harald wondered if the fresh air, the sun, and the sea were what had helped him or was there something else?. 

They drank water with lemon and mint and sat by his small fire. Ser Hyle had a natural charisma to him and a talkative nature which made Harald feel relaxed. They spoke of the troops, the provisions, the Step Stones, 

Finally, Ser Hyle looked in the fire and smiled. He asked a question, “Harry, have you ever been in love?

“Once, my Lord.”

The Knight smiled. “Harry, you sly dog, all this time I thought you were a septon under those robes. Did she break your heart? Was she a pretty girl?”

Harry smiled and looked away. “She was pretty. Her name was Merry and I married her in the Riverlands. She died trying to deliver our daughter. She and the baby died and I could do nothing.” 

Hyle continued. “Childbirth is a tricky thing. We are all helpless in the birthing room. I am sorry. I have been lucky enough to not lose either of the women I loved to childbirth. I couldn’t imagine. If you could have seen my wife when she was twenty-two...”

“I am sure she was lovely.”

“No, she was still plain, but so fierce, so bright, so full of honor. She was as bright as the sun on her sigil. She showed me the way back to myself.”

In the morning, Harald watched Ser Hyle in full armor, climb up the ramp of the ship. As he stood on the deck of the ship, he looked like the Warrior himself. However, he had looked like someone else, but Harald could not remember who.

That night, as he ate his supper alone in his rooms, reading Maester Yandel’s book War of the Five Kings. Lord Tarly had given him it as a gift when he left his service. There were illustrations but black and white ones, It had been printed using a printing press in Oldtown, the first one of its kind in Westeros. 

He had been looking at the crudely drawn picture of the Lannisters, and he kept going back to the description of Tywin in his gold armor and how he looked like the Warrior himself. Interestingly enough, Ser Hyle lost his right hand as had Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. It was relatively uncommon to survive such an injury but Lady Brienne had loved two men with no right hand. 

Harald thought back to when he had first learned he would go to Tarth. When he had found he was going to Tarth, he had asked Lord Samwell about Ser Hyle Hunt. Lord Tarly always glad to tell a story began to describe Ser Hyle from his youth, “He is a handsome man, quick to laugh brown eyes, deep like my son Rickon. When I was a boy, he saved me from drowning in the moat. Once he knew I was going to live, he had joked about it but he was kind and not cruel, unlike some of my father’s men.”

Ser Hyle did not have brown eyes but he did have green, green like a Lannister. Could Jaime Lannister be pretending to be Ser Hyle Hunt? If so, what had he done to Ser Hyle?

 

Harald waited for him in the keep at Morne, trying to push away his doubts. After all, Lord Tarly could have forgotten. There was no evidence to believe that this was true. More likely, Harald was making up drama where there was none. He vowed to tell Ser Hyle when he returned and was certain they would laugh at the foolishness of his conjectures. He spent his days tending old wounds and helping replenish defenses and stores.

 

One night in the deep of his sleep, the bells began to toll. When the dawn broke, several ships looking battered docked in Morne. One ship carried the Lady of Tarth’s husband, Ser Hyle. 

A boy woke him, most likely someone's page. "Maester, you must come. Ser Hyle has been injured. The injury is severe.”

When he entered the dark cabin beneath the deck, he could smell blood immediately. Ser Hyle was pale from the loss of blood He had taken a deep cut on his left side. Harald looked briefly at the cut. He could not smell a foul odor and the flesh on the inside seemed pink, but the bleeding would not stop. 

“Perhaps all this extra padding has not helped me,” Hyle said, touching his stomach.

 

“Why did you take off your plate, Ser. You would not have sustained such a grievous injury in plate.”

“No, but I would have drowned. Plate is no good in water. How does it look?” 

“We must wait and see”

Ser Hyle seemed pale, “It is bad?

Harald nodded. 

Ser Hyle looked at him, “Call the captain and tell him to hurry. We must get to Evenfall Hall.” 

“Ser Hyle, it might be best for you to stay here. A ship is dark and unclean and we need to care for the wound. I would do better if we stay here at Morne.” 

“I must go to my wife, Harry.”

Harry nodded and went to speak to the Captain and get some supplies. When he returned, the bleeding had diminished slightly but the blood loss was still significant. Harald poured something in a cup and added some wine. Harald’s hand were shaking as he helped Ser Hyle to drink.. “What is it, Harry?”

“Milk of Poppy. My Lord…” Harald met his eyes The man known as Ser Hyle went to refuse

Before he could speak, Harry helped him up holding him steady for him to drink, “ Ser I think you should drink it. Now would be the time.”

 

The man looked at him with green eyes, burning, “No, Harry, don't give up yet. You are the best. Surely, there is something.” 

“My Lord, I will do my best, but I think you should drink it. For my lady...”

The man took the drink. “Tell the captain to hurry. I must say goodbye to my wife or she will be cross with me,”

 

Harald nodded. The man grabbed his hand, “Please tell him to hurry.”


	5. Chapter 5

Harald worked to stop the man from bleeding. He persuaded the Captain to find some strong booze, the stronger the better and he cleaned the wound as best as he could, He spent some time wondering if he should stitch the wound or pack it. In the end, he chose to pack it and if the bleeding would cease, he would stitch it in a few days. He did not want to leave the man open because he knew the air was full of all manner of foul things that could lead to infection but if he sewed him up he would just bleed inside So he washed his hands, the wound, and packed it and covered it and then he prayed to the Mother.

An hour later, Ser Hyle woke, crying, “My daughter has been poisoned, She is dead. I must go to the Queen.”

“No Ser, My Lord. Cat is well.” 

He looked at him with those green piercing eyes, “Not Catelyn Stark... My daughter has been killed. We must send word to the Queen. I told her all of it before she died. She said she knew. Myrcella.”

Harald looked at him, “Ser, it is me Harald and we are sailing to Evenfall Hall to see your wife.”

He looked at him, “Harald... Bloody Harry... The Butcher, I was lost in another man’s dream.”For a minute, the man flinched and then he grabbed Harald's hand. “I don’t feel well, at all. Stay with me for a bit.”

“I could get you more Milk of Poppy. Does it hurt?”

He clutched his hand, “Harry, you are a septon, right?”

“No, my Lord.” 

“But you have helped men pass through. I fear I am leaving and I need to tell you my sins before I die. I know there is no help but still, I must. There is probably nothing on the other side but if there is, let me tell them.” 

“I cannot do that ser. Perhaps, if you wait until we land at Tarth within the hour we can have Septon there do his job.” 

But the man did not listen. “Please tell Brienne that I loved her. I dreamed of her so many nights, too many nights. I would lay in the arms of the most beautiful woman that ever walked on the ground but Brienne would haunt my dreams. Tell her I have seen quite a bit of the world and she is the best. She was always too good for me.” 

Hyle continued. “I have been lucky enough to marry the woman I love at least once. If you could have seen my wife when she was nineteen. Can you imagine her at nineteen fierce and strong and full of the code and the fuckers would never knight her because she was a woman? She could have bested most of them in a fight and beaten all of them with her honor but because she didn't have a cock, she would never get the title. She was ugly even then. But there was something. She saved my life more than once. She loved me first because I didn't know anything about love, unconditional love.” 

“I have committed the worst sins. I am a Kingslayer, a man who would murder children, a man who would desecrate the dead, a man who might fuck his sister. But I never touched her until we were married, not once. I loved the most beautiful woman and the things she could do with her body were mind blowing but she was pure darkness- evil and madness and hate. I would have killed anyone for her touch. Brienne changed that…”

 

“Ser, what happened to Ser Hyle? Did you murder him?” 

“He's right in front of you. I will tell you a story. The night before the War for the Dawn I, Ser Hyle, went to ask Brienne to marry me and perhaps a kiss and more. After all, we were looking at fighting an undefeatable foe and certain death. Who wants to die a maiden when you can die with the kiss of a lover on your mind, the warmth of bodies when death's cold touch is upon you?

I went to her rooms and I saw the man you confuse with me standing by her door lost in thought, Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer saw me with my wineskin and eyes full of intention, even with one hand was still a formidable foe. Perhaps not as great as he once had been, but still good. He looked like knights of old, strong and steady confident and full of the Lannister arrogance. He saw me and grabbed me.

“Why are you here? What do you intend Ser Hyle?”

The Kingslayer saw the wine and he knew. “You think to bed her. Maybe, that would put a smile on her face instead of the scowl. “

“I could ask why you are here as well, Ser.” I said.

He looked at me, confused and sad. “I don’t know why I came.” 

Of course I told him I planned to marry her. I did not want just a tumble in a bed. I could have found a girl in the kitchens. I wanted her to be my wife. 

Kingslayer laughed said that would be a good marriage for me but why would the Lady Brienne agree to it. 

Even though I knew Jaime Lannister would mock me, I told him that I cared for her and that my time with her on the road, Renly’s camp, and even in Winterfell, I had grown close to her. I told him that she had honor and strength. Perhaps she might not be pretty that there was more to life than fair maidens. Sometimes, there was knowing that someone would be next to you fighting alongside you until the day you died and that was Brienne good and true. 

We sat outside her room drinking from a wineskin, and he told me stories of battles he’d seen and I told him stories of my adventures.

Jaime Lannister told me I should have her. He looked at me and laughed, “Bed her well. Marry her and make her happy. She is the best of us.” 

Jaime Lannister told me that if he survived the Battle he would join the Night’s Watch to freeze and stand watch. He said that he might not have killed Cersei but he had wished it. He had put his hands around her throat and wished he could stop her. Jaime spoke, “Even though she was pregnant with my child, I left her to be murdered by her enemies and devoured by her madness. To the black brothers, I will go after this is settled.”

Something happened that night, neither of us knocked on her door and we both sat there drinking and trading stories. When the dawn broke and the horns sounded that the enemy had broken the tree line, Jaime Lannister had smiled and said good luck and we went and fought amid the smoke, snow, and steel. On that day, the two of us went out to battle. One of us fell dead from the blade of a dead man and one of us woke, dying on a field of snow and flame in her arms.

I was covered in mud and shit and she looked so clean, like Tarth after the rain when the waterfalls rush clean and abundant over the black stone mountains and into the sea. Brienne begged me to stay and keep the vow I made to her, the vow to live and fight another day. Whether Ser Hyle died in the snow or Jaime Lannister, it did not matter. The man who rose to be with her is all that is left. 

 

She burned Jaime Lannister’s body on a pyre and the next day she found a wagon and we left. A fortnight later, we were married at a small sept in the riverlands. Nine months later, she gave me Gwayne and I no longer remember who I was before that sept.”

Harald looked at him and squeezed his hand. “Ser, stay and fight another day. Look. It is morning and we have reached Tarth.”

Through the window of the ship, they could see Evenfall Hall and a red sunrise across the sea and sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I love the book and idea The Return of Martin Guerre, which to sum up is the true story of a 16th Century French family. The husband goes to fight in a war and doesn't come back. Seven or eight years later, a man comes back saying he is the husband, Martin Guerre. His wife and family welcome him back. He lives with them for several years and has a few children with his wife. Unfortunately, some legal problems arise and some of the extended family say he is an impostor. Ultimately, the man is killed as an impostor because the real Martin Guerre shows up. It is hinted at that the wife found the impostor was a better husband than the real Martin. There is a French movie made about this and the American one, Sommersby.
> 
> So obviously, this is not the same story but I definitely borrowed the concept.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow, Harald kept Ser Hyle alive that day and the next and the next. Twice a day, he would change the dressing, clean it and bind the whole thing. On the fourth day, he closed the wound with thread and a needle and fed his patient mutton and garlic broth and red wine to fight infection. By the sixth day, it seemed Ser Hyle might make a full recovery.

 

Almost a fortnight later, Lady Brienne climbs in bed by her husband, Her husband smiles as she gently props next to him, careful of his wound. “Wench, I have missed you in my bed.”

“I thought you should heal.” 

“I cannot heal without you.”

“You are getting old, too old to fight pirates. You scared the children. You scared me. Next time, I will go.” 

“Absolutely not.. I need to earn my keep around here. The lords will talk that I am a kept man, a mistress to the Lady of Tarth.” 

“I would miss you, old man, if you left me.” 

“I made vows to you in that old mud sept in the Riverlands. The vows I said to you that day are the only one I have kept in all the years.”

“You have kept many vows. You are too hard on yourself.” 

“Where is Harald? I am afraid I spoke too freely.”

“He is in his tower. I am certain he knows the truth of it.”

“Will he speak of it?”

“No, I think he is in awe of you. Perhaps, a little in love. It's that Lannister charm. Also, he is certain I will kill him if he tells anyone.” 

“He does not know you at all.” 

She kissed him. “Heal, Jaime... I need you always.” 

“Shhh.. My name is Hyle after that knight who wanted you so. But you were too taken with a certain Kingslayer.” 

“Of course.”

“But he waited and won you over in the end…” 

“I was grief-stricken.”

“You were practical and loyal and true. Come here and let me show you how crazy Jaime Lannister would make you if he were here.”.

When he tried to kiss her it hurt, he grimaced. “Here,” she said, “let’s just sleep, husband. We have time still.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I thought of this story, this scene was the end game. I wrote this scene first and all the rest grew around it. I like the idea of Jaime living with Brienne on Tarth happily ever after, though I am certain that will not be the end of the story. 
> 
> Thanks for reading


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